I started reading this collection wrong. I had come out of another poetry book, and I was not prepared for The Fire Eater. Consequently, I wasn't getting into it. After reading the first four or five poems, I set the book down and came back to it with a clear head a few days later.
And when I did, what an incredible experience. This is one of those styles in which you must not confuse straightforward sentences with superficiality. This was my problem. Instead, in the right headspace, I laughed, sat in wonder, invested in characters such as the skeleton and the man in the Pink Floyd shirt. The language, sure, it's simple in the sense that you don't find extravagant diction, but when you walk the streets of South California with these personalities, those would be the wrong words to describe what is happening and what they are feeling.
It's a remarkable book full of a thick sense of place. This was my favorite part of The Fire Eater. While the people are fantastic, it's the places that they walk, the memories and history embedded in their surroundings that ground this collection in a specific version of Southern California that I found to be endearing, and I felt privileged to visit through the people presented in the book.